The Finish Line
by Amela333
Summary: <html><head></head>The beginning of the end of the hinted-at Mika/Arra relationship. Songfic to 'The Finish Line' by Train.</html>


**Disclaimer: **Looks familiar, not mine.

**A/N: **Ever get the overwhelming urge to write something and it just pours out in one sitting? That's this sonfic (to one of my all-time favorite songs). And it's midnight, so it honestly might look awful in the light of day. Plus, songfics aren't my comfort zone. But please, please take the time to review. It would mean more to me to hear your thoughts on this than perhaps anything I've ever written. So please review. I really appreciate it. Thanks for reading :)

This assumes Mika and Arra had an actual relationship beyond mentor/student. Whether or not that'll happen in Larten's Saga, or if Mika will just be a rival interest, I don't know. At some point, if I see fit, I might move this over to the 'Saga of Larten Crepsley' fandom, but at the moment, I think its best fit is here.

And also, I would like to make it clear that I am _not _anti Mika, though it may seem that way from this fic. I've got no problem with the guy. In reality, this has less to do with these characters and more to do with a story I wanted to write (and I have been wanting to write a Arra/Mika story as well, so they were the best fit).

**Song: **The Finish Line - Train

* * *

><p>Arra didn't acknowledge him as he stepped through the door, though he immediately spotted her. Her grey eyes stayed fixed to the mug of ale cupped in her hands even as he neared her. She made an unrelated remark to a nearby vampire; she wasn't sure of his name, or even what she had said to him. All Arra was sure about was that she wanted to pretend her attention was on something so she wouldn't be disturbed.<p>

_I thought I knew it all_  
><em>I've been through the highs, said all my goodbyes<em>  
><em>Learned to run before I learned to crawl<em>  
><em>It's not worth fighting for, one of us is sure<em>  
><em>And one of us is dying, trying to find love's cure<em>

Of course it didn't matter that she was trying to seem busy, didn't matter that she didn't look up at him, didn't matter that she had to clamp her teeth to suppress a wince as he sunk into the seat beside her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her stiflingly against him. She forced a half of a smile as she barely turned her chin up to greet him. He beamed and immediately pressed his lips to hers, and she accepted it; didn't return it - just accepted it. Tolerated it because she didn't know what else to do.

_I have waited all my life to paint these cities red_  
><em>Thoughts I've always had here, stuck inside my head<em>  
><em>It's not worth waiting for if one of us wants more<em>  
><em>And one of us is dying, trying to find love's door<em>

But the show had run far overtime. She'd played the role too long. She was suffocating, and she couldn't go on with the act anymore.

_When we learn how to fly_  
><em>We forget to how walk<em>  
><em>When we learn how to sing<em>  
><em>Don't wanna hear each other talk<br>__Here we are at the finish line  
><em>_Here we are at the finish line_

A year. One year in the grand mural that was a vampire's life. Insignificant, laughable even, but to her it seemed a lifetime. It was far too long. Every day that passed had her mind weaving it into something ugly and sinister, though the small bit of her that hadn't been twisted into panic and fury knew that she was over-dramatizing it. He was her mentor, for the sake of the Vampire Gods. He had guided her through her vampire childhood, as she thought liked to think of that period of her life. He'd taught her well, they'd shared the bond of mentor and student. But that wasn't enough for him. Maybe it had just taken having something to realize she didn't want it. Or maybe she'd been lead to believe it wasn't enough for her either.

_And you, you really thought you knew_  
><em>Everything to do<em>  
><em>With holding onto me and holding on this time<em>  
><em>Is making me slip right through your hands<em>  
><em>And now you don't understand<em>  
><em>Trying to find love all yourself<em>

The dominant part of her brain that was exhausted from running memory after recollection after simple moment in time wondered if it had all been a lie. When he'd told her of his human life, how he'd been close to his sister, how her death had left him with an empty space - had that been an early set-up? When he told her that the hollow was beginning to be filled, and a part of him he hadn't known existed was beginning to thrive, had it been all been a flowery draw? When he'd blooded her and told how he'd never in his life felt such a wonderful connection, was it just to mold her young mind to feel the way he wanted? When he told her how he felt - or, as he'd put it, what he'd finally worked out the emotions to be - and asked if she could ever understand and if she felt the same way, was he simply prompting the answer he'd been creating in her head since the beginning?

Or maybe she was reading too far into it. Maybe he was being honest. But then, she'd caught him in plenty of distortions of the truth before. Why would things with them be any different? If he wanted her, what was to say he wouldn't create a universe of lies to get her? She was almost sure that nothing would have stopped him.

_When we learn how to fly  
><em>_We forget to how walk  
><em>_When we learn how to sing  
><em>_Don't wanna hear each other talk_

This was not what she wanted, never was something she'd wanted. She knew that now. She'd been stupid and it seemed so completely obvious, she felt foolish for having ever bought into it. Since when did she leap without a net, let her guard down? Every time she'd ever done that before, she'd regretted it. He always talked about 'cynical' as though it was a bad thing. Cynical was better than the hell she was in now.

And yet she didn't know what to do. There was no easy way to end this. She had to face him every day regardless of what happened. He'd spin it, fight it, manipulate more to get what he would still want. But she knew what she wanted, or, more importantly, what she didn't want, and she wasn't going to lose sight of that again. Never again.

_When we know what we want_  
><em>We forget what we need<em>  
><em>When you find who you are<em>  
><em>You'll forget about me<em>

She shrugged his arm off from around her and slid off her chair, with no indication of where she was headed and no intentions of telling.

"Where -?" Mika started to ask, beginning to get to his feet to follow her.

"I need to be alone for a little while," she told him. "But I'll be back her later this evening."

"Come back soon, I'll be waiting," he smiled, returning to his seat and watching as she left the hall. The sweetness with the only-just-concealed control. It was another trick, one that sat among the other cards he played in his stacked deck of deception.

But tonight, he would know, he wasn't fooling Arra Sails anymore.

_Here we are at the finish line_  
><em>Here we are at the finish line<em>  
><em>Here we are at the finish line<em>


End file.
